


I Confess

by jennandanica, valuna



Series: A Distance Erased [5]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Push me. See what I can take."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Confess

**Author's Note:**

> The year is 1997 and the place is Auckland, New Zealand. Harry's a director/actor and Karl's an actor. This is _not_ Est backstory and is in no way canon for that game.

It's hard to believe it's only been a week. Karl looks over at Harry reading his newspaper. Glances back down at his book. He's been spending more and more time here. Sometimes he thinks he should go home - spend the night at his place - just to prove, hell, he doesn't know what. That this isn't a relationship? That he's not here to stay? He knows all it would get him is a night of loneliness. Of tossing and turning in bed, without Harry's arms around him, grounding him.

He looks across the room at Harry again. Watching him.

"You want something?" Harry asks over the newspaper's edge. He's been watching Karl, random glances, tracking subtle movements. The boy has the hardest time sitting still.

"Maybe." Karl shrugs but drops his book to the floor and slips off the couch, prowling across the living room on all fours to settle between Harry's legs. He kneels up, kissing Harry, his mouth, tongue, hard, hungry. Possessive. Begging to be possessed in return. "Hurt me," he says softly when he finally pulls back. "Anything you want - just hurt me."

The prowling definitely gets Harry's attention, brain and cock, and then there's the kiss. He's reeling from it when the words hit him. _Just hurt me._ He puts the paper down, dropping it casually over the chair's arm, letting it fall into sections and pages on the floor. "Hurt you," he says softly, moving his hands to cup Karl's face. He remembers the early morning conversation, the admission of abuse in the past. "Not without talking. How much?"

_Don't want to talk_. But Karl knows Harry's right. "Enough that I'll feel it for days," he murmurs. "Push me. See what I can take," he urges, turning his head to bite at Harry's thumb.

"How far have you gone before, Karl?" Harry pushes his thumb against Karl's teeth, grins at the nibble. "Be honest with me or I won't hurt you."

"Far enough," Karl says. "I've been cut. I've been whipped. I've taken arms right up to the shoulder." He looks at Harry, straight on, jaw set. "Try me."

"All right." Harry nudges Karl back. "Then tell me what you won't take, and give me a safeword."

"Marley," Karl says. "And I don't do formal." He's sure there's other stuff he doesn't do but it's not worth mentioning. Given the right person, the right time, he'll do just about anything.

"Unusual safeword. Remind me to ask you about music in the middle of a scene." Harry grins, slides forward on the chair. "I'm not big on formal either, but the occasional _sir_ turns me on. How 'bout we start with a spanking?"

"I might be able to manage a sir for you," Karl smirks. "You want me naked?"

"That might be more fun." Harry likes the smirk, something about Karl's give-and-take attitude. "Of course, I could start with your jeans on, see how long it takes for you to beg to be naked."

"You could," Karl acknowledges, not giving Harry any reaction. "So... naked or clothed? And you want me over your lap or what?"

_I'd like a bit more enthusiasm._ Harry thinks it, but doesn't say anything. He'll wait and see. "Naked. Over my lap."

Karl stands. He makes a bit of a show stripping off his clothes but not much, eyes gleaming with mischief as he goes. When he's done, he spreads himself over Harry's lap, already rigid cock between his thighs. "How's this?"

Harry shifts, adjusting to a better position and pulls his legs together a touch, squeezing Karl's cock. "I'm comfortable." He gives Karl a quick pop on the ass, solid strike with flat palm. "What's your record for taking 'em?"

Karl grunts softly then laughs. "All depends on who's dealing them out and how hard."

He starts to respond, match Karl's smart attitude in kind, but something else clicks and Harry instead just hits Karl. A half dozen times in rapid succession, each strike harder than the last, palm landing with a sharp pop against his ass.

He manages to grit his teeth through the first few but by the last three, Karl's cursing softly under his breath with each and every one.

Cursing's better than smarting off, Harry thinks, and he likes that little hiss Karl makes after each one. "That's seven, if we're counting," he says, slowly the next set of strikes to echo, the pain from one rippling out before the next one's landed. But they're even harder, and Harry's hand is stinging before he gets to the even dozen.

It's been a while since Karl was over anyone's lap and his arse feels red and swollen within the set. But he's damned if he's making things easy for Harry. "Surely you can hit harder than that, eh?"

"Go ahead, boy. Tempt me." Harry draws his hand back and brings it down with a wrist-numbing force. Once. Twice. "I can hurt you very badly if I choose." A half dozen times.

Karl tenses hard under the blows, the _boy_ something he hates. And for an instant, he considers pulling back or calling Harry on it but he's too fucking close to getting what he wants. "I told you," he says, jaw clenched against the pain. "_Try me_."

It takes a deep breath for Harry to not react quickly, _over_react. _He's just testing you. Playing._ "You want it, you can have it." Harry hits with a force that knocks Karl forward, wedging his cock into a tight squeeze between Harry's legs. _Rein it in._

"Fuck!" Karl winces, his backside stinging, aching, his cock harder than ever. "Christ, Harry. Do it again," he whispers breathlessly.

"That's what you want." There's another pop, just as loud, and Harry swears his hand is going to break. Karl likes that much pain, Harry can oblige. But not with his hand. Not continually. "You want to come." He squeezes his legs together, clenching thighs on Karl's cock. "Go ahead. I'm not stopping you." He manages another strike, hand to ass in a noisy shudder.

Karl _wants_ to come. He even fucks the space between Harry's thighs in an effort _to_ come. But it's not happening. Even with the pain. "Need more," he growls softly, frustrated. "Your cock, your belt..."

The grin on Harry's face is evil, wicked and twisted. "No cock. Not yet," he murmurs, voice rough and low. "Belt later." He rubs his palm over Karl's ass, quick circular motion, and shoves two fingers into the red-hot hole. "Come on that." He twists and curls his fingers harshly.

"Oh, god," Karl chokes out, coming roughly, instantly, mostly from the shock alone. "JesusChrist." Wetting Harry's thighs and the floor below.

Harry's not going to complain too much that his jeans are soaked through. He finger-fucks Karl until the shudders stop, till it's clear he's exhausted himself, and then Harry's pulling his hand out, giving Karl a quick swat.

"Fuckin' good," he murmurs. "That get you what you want?"

"Mostly," Karl says, sliding off Harry's lap and down onto his heels, flashing Harry a smile that says he's only kidding. "What about you? Anything you want?"

"Yeah." _Slap that smile off your face._ "Your mouth on my cock. Now."

Karl nods, crawling between Harry's legs to unzip his jeans and free his cock. Eyes flickering between his hands and Harry's face as he sucks at the head, tongue swirling around the tip and into the slit.

Harry grabs at Karl's hair, twists his fingers into the strands, jerks his head forward. He wants it quick, hard. Give the boy more of that pain he seems to be craving.

_Fuck, yeah_. Harry's rough grip gets a low groan out of Karl and he relaxes his throat, determined not to choke as he swallows the other man down.

"That's it." Harry fucks Karl's mouth with no regard for how he hard he's pushing forward, not caring if he chokes him. It's an act that's a lot less about sex than it is about violence, power, control. It's about wanting to hurt, something Harry hasn't felt in awhile, hasn't wanted to feel again. Until now.

He's just on the verge of coming, but waits, holds back until Karl's almost gagging. Then Harry lets go, fingers still gripping Karl's hair, holding him tight against the assault.

Nose pressed against Harry's groin, head held tight, Karl struggles for breath. And then stops. He flattens his hands against the chair, riding it out, putting his trust in Harry not to take things too far as his world slowly turns black.

Harry pushes it to the edge, to the second where he senses everything go quiet, Karl especially, and then he pulls back, slowing untwining his fingers from Karl's hair. Sitting back, he gives Karl space to recover, taking a moment to ride through the last ripples of orgasm.

Gasping, Karl swallows again and again until his heart rate slows and the pain in his throat begins to dull. His whole fucking body fucking aches and he presses his hands hard into his thighs, his eyes closed, head bowed as he slowly takes stock, puts himself back together.

"You okay? If I move, I could manage getting us some water."

"I'm fine," Karl says, not entirely sure he is but unwilling to admit anything of the sort.

"Sure." Harry only half-believes Karl, but he's not in the mood to press the issue.

"Sorry. I just meant I'm okay. Water would be good. Thanks." Karl turns, sitting down on the floor and leaning back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his face.

Harry pulls himself off the sofa, hitching his jeans up enough to not fall off his hips, and heads to the kitchen. He grabs two water bottles from the fridge, picking up a bag of crisps as he heads back into the living room. He stands for a few minutes in the doorway, staring at Karl, trying to figure out what's going on in that brain.

"Here you go. Water and a bit of salt to put back in your body." He passes off the water and settles onto the floor, putting the bag between them. "You gonna tell me what that was about? More than sex, I think."

Karl shrugs. "Just felt like being hurt," he answers, twisting the cap from the bottle. "Wanted to see what you'd do."

"Just wanted to see what I'd do." Harry shakes his head. "Thought about throwing you across the room, but I held off."

"Why?"

Harry turns the bottle up, drinks half the water in one long chug, wipes his mouth before answering. "You were pissing me off with your smart mouth." No reason not to be honest. "Just hit me the wrong way tonight."

"Not that," Karl says. "I meant why didn't you?" Sure, Harry'd fucked his throat raw. Choked him with his cock instead of his hands. But he still hadn't tossed him across the room or told him to get the fuck out. And he could have.

"I don't know. Something about you worth keeping around, I guess." Harry can't explain it, but he knows he's never felt quite this way about anyone before, wanting to kill Karl in one breath and kiss him the next. "You expecting to get thrown out? That why you kept pushing today?"

Karl looks at his hands. "Maybe. Easier if it happens now than later."

"What makes you think there's going to be a later?" Harry grabs a handful of chips, munches on them one by one.

Karl looks at Harry then back at his hands. Shrugs again, biting at his bottom lip. Sometimes with Harry he feels like the more he says, the deeper he digs himself in. Sometimes it's easier just to keep quiet. Not open himself up anymore than he has to.

Harry looks at Karl, assumes he's not going to get an answer and shrugs it off. "For the record, Karl, I don't plan on kicking you out." He doesn't know if it matters, saying the words, or if Karl even hears them. He's going to say them.

"Even if I keep mouthing off?" Karl murmurs, peeling the label from his water bottle.

"Yeah, even then." Harry stares at Karl's fingers, watches them peel the label. "I might start tossing you against walls, but not out the door."

"Anything that _would_ get me kicked out?" Karl asks. He's damned if he's going to let Harry set rules like he's his boy or anything but if there's something Harry wants from him, better to know up front.

Harry munches a few more crisps, thinks about the question. "Not being honest," he murmurs. "I'm not going to keep you under lock and key, Karl. You're free to leave whenever you want, but it would be nice if you were honest with yourself about what you want."

"What makes you think I'm not?" Karl says, working the label completely free.

"Well, let's see. There's the avoiding certain questions, the smart-mouthing and the compulsive peeling of labels." Harry smiles slightly. "I have therapy experience, Karl. I know what it is to not be honest."

Karl looks up. "You've been in therapy?"

"Yeah. Several years of it." Harry's never been one to talk much about it, but he's not ever hidden it either. "Off and on, most recently a couple years ago. Surprised?"

Karl nods. "Yeah. You don't strike me as the therapy type."

"Didn't have a choice at first." Harry finishes off the water. "Well, come to think of it, didn't have much of a choice last time either. You ever done it?"

That gets a chuckle. "What do you think?"

Harry joins in the laugh. "If you did, it didn't take." He pushes himself up off the floor, stands and holds his hand out to Karl. "Want a shower before bed?"

"Sounds good," Karl says, using Harry's hand to pull himself up. "Can I ask you something?"

"You'd most likely ask even if I said no, so g'head." Harry's pulled Karl close. _He can't ask anything you wouldn't want to answer. Can he?_

"What did mean? When you said you didn't have choice. With the therapy."

Well, there's a question and then there's a _question_ and that's definitely in the second category. Harry draws in a breath, lets it out slowly. "Short answer is they were court-ordered. There's a longer explanation if you want it."

_Shit_. "Yeah I want it," Karl says softly.

Harry steps backward, tugging Karl toward the bedroom. "First time, I was about 15, my parents had divorced and I was lashing out. Hit somebody too hard and that was the trade-off for staying out of juvenile detention. Couple years later, I found out there were more constructive ways to hit people."

"And the second time?"

Harry leans into the doorjamb. "My father died a few years ago, right after I'd come off a less-than-perfect relationship." His hand is still holding Karl's arm, thumb rubbing over the wrist now. "I got stupid, mixed a few too many pills with too much tequila, had a bit of trouble waking up. Funny thing, when they think you've tried to off yourself, they make you talk to the docs."

"Christ, Harry..." Karl wraps his other hand around the back of Harry's neck and pulls him into a kiss. Long and slow and deep. "I hate the idea of you hurting like that," he says quietly when it's over.

"And you're not hurting?" Harry's free hand is around Karl's waist, his lips lingering in the kiss. "That's what I mean, being honest."

"I don't know," Karl murmurs, pressing close. "Honesty's never got me anything except more fucked up than I was."

"Give it a try, Karl. You might find I'm different than the others."

Karl swallows hard, his chest tight with just the thought of the risk he's taking. "Okay," he nods, voice barely more than a whisper. "I want us to be together. I don't care if you're faithful or any of that shit, but I want to come first with you. And I want other people to know that I do. I'm falling hard for you, Harry, and I'm so fucking terrified that it's all I can do not to run the other way. I need something to hold on to."

_Hell. That is honesty._ Harry has Karl as close as they can get, still standing in the doorway. Odd place to make promises, but maybe it's the most logical. Doorways are supposed to be sturdy, refuges in the storm. He breathes carefully, consciously slowly down his breaths until he's calmed his racing heart.

"I promise to hold on, Karl, to not walk away," Harry whispers. "Don't think I've ever been in love, but I have a feeling it's like falling. And I don't mind falling at all. It's a new adventure."

It's just words but it's more than Karl's ever had. More than he's ever stayed long enough to get. He nods. Once, and again. Brushes his lips across Harry's, savouring the moment, the gentleness between them, before finally whispering back, "Take me to bed?"


End file.
